Dreamlike
by Marr H
Summary: I was solitude in a human form. My true world solely lied within and I never let anyone in. But he was the perfect thief; breaking in was his specialty. He made his way through and he stole my heart. He's dazzling, daring, fucking brilliant and I'm in love. He's a criminal. Something must be wrong with me.
1. Scars of the Past

_Red Eye belongs to its respective owners._

* * *

Scars are stories never told on the map of skin.

* * *

**1- Scars of the Past**

_As a child, I was a good girl. I was a good girl with pigtails and pink ribbons who did her homework and played with her toys silently._

_By the time I was seven-years-old, I had perfect common sense. I was mature and not childish at all. I wasn't shut-in or antisocial. I merely was the girl who minded her own business. The boy next door liked that about me. I could tell he had a crush on me. I liked him, too, but I never told him. He used to bring me flowers and "I love you" cupcakes he stole from his mom's oven she made for her baking business. As a little girl who enjoyed biking in the neighborhood with a boy named Billy, I sure did get lots of love. _

_My childhood was pure and heartwarming. My juvenile days were the same. My life glistened. Until _that_ happened. _

_Before _it_, I had my own realizations on life. Like how there's this one point in life where you change utterly. Where you realize the utter truth of rainbows and Santa Clause. The Santa Clause of reality. Where you awake from your PG-13 life and go, "Oh, so this is what everyone was talking about?"_

_I survived that. I proudly survived all of these unwanted milestones. I was brave. Until it happened._

_What happened to me was unearthly. It was too gruesome and ugly to be put into words. That ghastly incident was a different kind of milestone. The cupcakes are still cupcakes but now they're stuffed with blood and angst instead of rainbows. _

_It was daytime. It happened in a parking lot. He held a knife to my throat. The hours of day in August made no difference from the hours of night. That August, that unpromising fateful month, I lost a piece of my humanity. And time is my only alley in restoring it. _

_I remember it all too well. The parking lot, the scar, the smells, the bright sun and the unbearable hotness of summer, all of it, I remember, in sickening details. It was savage and I came to realize what was happening except that that incident felt like it was from a different realm. Like the news, we hear about it but it's never about us. It was always other people. It was always someone else's grief; someone else's pain. Others. _

_The whole thing was too macabre for me, I barely managed to described it to the police._

_"He stabbed me on my right chest side."_

_That damned proud razor-edged blade slowly cut through the flesh. That scar became my daily reminder of the past. The blood didn't feel my own. The pain, the physical pain woke me up._

_I started screaming hysterically._

_He shushed me with the sharp-end of the knife. As if to say, 'I'll stab you again if you make a sound.' And I didn't. The blood-stained blade was nearing my neck and its iciness struck me. And silenced me to an eternity of shamefulness. _

_It felt as if the world watched as I was on my way to the stand, ashamed, to get slaughtered. I awaited booing crowds, refusal, rejection, anything, a sound of breath even. But the world's silence was a reflection of my own. _

_I felt like throwing up._

_Disgusting hands on my body, my throat was already sore. I felt utter helplessness. I was so helpless; I couldn't forgive myself. The pain kept me awake. My clothes were ripped off of me that day, along with my ability to forget and forgive._

_I lost every single right as a person but primarily as a woman in a matter of one day. And that could only do so much damage. In one single day, I was gone. Molested. Insulted. Ravished. It only took a single day to destroy a lifetime of possible happiness._

_A silhouette of a man came at my rescue. I am saved. But it's too late, sir. I'm no longer here. Lisa is no longer here._

_A broken remains of a human being, I was. _

* * *

The rehabilitation lady sucked me back to reality with her words:

"Lisa, it's your turn."

The circle of seated people stared at me, waiting. I strongly felt their presence. The lights were bright; I felt slight panic and answered in a shaken voice.

"My name is Lisa and I was sexually abused two years ago."

* * *

**Author's Note**

This was especially difficult because it's such a sensitive matter. But I had to bring up this vital traumatic event since it makes up so much of her character! Anyways, worry not, this is just the beginning. I have many arcs planned ahead. The main two characters will most likely be half-OOC (I'll come up with a smarter appellation later.) And by that I mean, while they'll still get to keep some of their original traits that we love about them, they'll also be able to develop in a way their original unchanged characters would've deemed unfeasible -and even not possible!

**Disclaimer**

Red Eye is the property of Carl Ellsworth and the movie creators, and is not my intellectual property. I do not own the original plot, characters or setting. This is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

_**Next Chapter:** It's been a year already, and you-know-who is back! What does he want with Lisa now?_

* * *

_«End of Chapter__»_


	2. The Unfortunate Meeting

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Terribly sorry for the awfully late update, enjoy!

* * *

Opening: _Miami _by_ Counting Crows._

* * *

**2- The "Un"fortunate Meeting **

_The man stood in the doorway, waiting for the car to get parked. It was starting to get humid and undeniably hot in June. The door was wide open as the man took a few steps on the porch, welcoming the visitor._

_"That's a nice villa, for a man who just got out." The visitor said. _

_"Sharp-eyed as always, I see." The man countered. Smiling. _

_"Good to have you back." The visitor gave him a quick hug and patted on his back. "Come on in."_

_The guest made his way inside, "have a seat. Coffee?" The man offered._

_"Please." He went inside the kitchen whilst his guest sat down. The guest said from across the living room, "you're not a man without a plan, I presume."_

_"You betcha." He said as he continued brewing the coffee. _

_He came back to the living room and placed the mug on the vitreous coffee table, "Is she worth going back to jail for, Jackson?" His guest asked, worried for his best pal._

_"Every fucking time, Harrison." Jackson snorted._

_"Good. Because after this, you might go back to jail. This time for_ life_."_

_Jackson opened a drawer, took out a file then placed it on the coffee table without commenting. There was no need to. The file said it all._

_Harrison opened the file. The headline read Project #-064, Lisa Reisert in a big sized font, almost impossible not to notice._

* * *

Miami's sky was a reflection of the fickleness and changeability of its residents.

Fishermen and cooks rose before the sun for their everyday jobs, yielding to their daily tradition of fish trading. The city smelled of seawater and five morning air. The sky was the greyest shade of grey and the heavens looked like they were about to pour.

Just like most big cities in the world, Miami was sleepless.

Miami's streets took a heavy mid-July rain mixed with unbearable hotness and humidity. Its outward calmness was impossible compared to the big carnival and celebrations of July 4th a week and more ago. Out-of-towners were the only ones daring—and forgetful—enough to go out without umbrellas.

_BEEP BEEP BEEP_

I got up drenched in sweat, and turned off the alarm.

The air conditioner is not working and so is a lot of things in this apartment. It's been facing a lot of bizarre changes and I had, nor will I have, time to take care of them. Important guests have been coming all week long last week for the celebrations and I've got a big wedding in Texas this weekend. As in today after work.

_Texas...! _

It's been a year since I last saw him, from my flight back to home from Texas on the red eye.

I felt my stomach unsteadying and sick.

I shot a look at the alarm, 7:32 AM. _No time for reminiscing. _

I clicked on a button on the answering machine. "Seventeen new messages," it uttered. I checked the contact: Cynthia.

I sighed. I have to go.

Miami has been a city of wonder to me. I worked at Lux hotel for years. But I was offered a better position in New York. If I don't get a promotion, I'm leaving.

I finished getting ready and on my way out, I noticed what has this city has witnessed a few hours ago of rain on my apartment's stairs outside.

Air moistened and streets wet, I decided I'm not walking today. "Taxi!" I shouted and a cab stopped.

It's a new day, like all days, there's no need to remember last year's incident. Just get _him_ out of your head.

* * *

"It's effing hot in here," said an employee, waving with a file to cool himself. I walked past him right to the main desk.

"Lisa! Oh thank God. Did you get my messages?" Cynthia said, almost panting.

"Yup, all seventeen of them." I reassured.

"I'm sorry I didn't what to do."

"It's okay, did you call our tech. department?"

"Yes, they're on it."

"When did it stop working and how many complaints have we got by far?"

"This morning at six and 124,"

"Out of how many?" I stood behind the main desk, typing on the computer, checking the guests' files.

"Around 4000..."

"Good, good. We have 205 regulars, get Hannah and Lara on the phone to check with them, send them complementary wine and tell the rest of guests, complainers first, about tonight's free-of-charge buffet."

"Buffet?" Cynthia asked. I nodded, waiting for her to get it. "Oh right, right, I'll call the kitchen." She got it.

"See if they want anything specific for tonight," I walked away, "is Ed in his office?"

She nodded while talking on the phone. What a madhouse.

I knocked on the door. "Ed?"

"Come in." the old man said.

"Good morning,"

"Good morning, Lisa. I know why you're here and I don't know what to tell you. "

"Did I get it?"

"I'm sorry, Lisa." His eyes were apologetic. "They won't give me an answer till New Year's. I'm sorry. You deserve the promotion. The board is full of pricks who only know how to talk out of their ass," he snorted.

I smiled apologetically, "Thank you, Ed. I appreciate you trying."

"I'll call those pricks again, don't worry about them and just enjoy your weekend. When's your flight?"

"At twelve sharp, thanks again Ed." I left the office and closed the door the moment the air-conditioner started working again. Claps, hoorays and happy shouting filled the room.

Cynthia came fast walking toward me, "So? Did you get it?"

"They're postponing till New Year's."

"Unbelievable."

"Yup. I'm leaving at lunchtime, did you call Billy tell him I'm not gonna make to tennis today?"

"I did and he said he's coming either way."

"Did he say why?"

"No, but I think you know why." She suggested.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I laughed. "Come on, Lisa."

"Come on you. We're just friends. He's one of my oldest friends. That is all."

"Who's one of your oldest friends?"

"Hey!" I turned around and hugged him, "why'd you come? You didn't have to."

"I didn't? You're leaving today and you didn't bother to tell me?"

I shot Cynthia a meaningful look. She shrugged in response.

"It didn't matter if left this weekend. I was going to make it to our next tennis practice either way."

"I felt worried."

"I'm sorry."

"You're gonna make it up to me."

"I know, I know, once I get back-"

"Today. At ten. Brunch. With me."

There's no way out. "Usual place?"

"See you there!" He smiled and walked away, his hands in his pockets.

"Oooh, somebody's got a date."

"Brunch? On a Friday morning? Hardly. Excuse me,"

I headed to the main desk wishing this day would end already.

* * *

I just got back from my brunch with Billy. Tired already from my half-day work, I inserted the keys, planning in my head what I need to do in the little time before heading to the airport.

I opened the door.

I couldn't move.

Someone was sitting in my chair in the living room.

He finally turned to face me.

That moment, I saw a pair of bright blue eyes I recognise so well...

* * *

**Author's Note:** if you liked this chapter, let me know. I have much more in store.

* * *

**Next Chapter:** He's here, in my apartment, in my armchair, staring at me. This can never be good.

* * *

_«End of Chapter»_


End file.
